The signs of a battle well fought where everywhere as the lioness stalked through the piles of fur, pools of blood and bits of body that laid strewn across the ground around her. She had stayed nearby, listening to the battle cries. She had seen the prey beasts flee during the nightfall before, the air had held and eerie silence in through the darkness and now the reminding cries of the gathering buzzards to feast on the flesh of the fallen echoed in the still air.
Mist began to form around her, her claws raking the soiled ground and the stench of death continued to assault her nostrils. The striped lioness' nose crinkled at the foul scent, her head shaking as if to try to lessen the burden but to no avail.
Risheera, a simple lioness though beautiful by many standards, was far from a scavenger. No, she merely looked for those bodies still fresh enough to be sacrificed to the gods she for devotedly followed. Usually her prey only included the freshest of the dead; those left to succumb to their wounds and perish in a death fit for a warrior. She had grown up in the company of gods, raised by one or another. In some ways, her small gifts of flesh to the higher beings was a way of giving back to them for bringing her up as such a devote daughter to them.
One by one the lioness' eyes scanned over the corpses, searching for those not yet bloated as well as those left untouched by the flocking vultures that had arrived on the scene before her. Damn it! There had to be at least one here that fit her needs! In frustration Risheera released a loud, echoing roar only to followed by the sudden sound of flapping winds as the buzzards took to the sky out of fright. At this rate she would just have to take an older cadaver and sacrifice that one instead of a fresher body like she had originally wanted to do. What a day this was turning in to.
The silence was broken yet again as a second roar echoed back to meet Risheera's ears. Her head turned in the general direction, her face mimicking her surprised feeling perfectly. Was someone still alive? Quickly her mind cleared and she was able to think properly once again. This was place was becoming increasingly dangerous with a live lion who was likely confused, injured and angry no matter which side it was on. All she knew was that she needed to pick a body quickly and leave before she really got in trouble. Without another moment to ponder what to do, Risheera started her work in looking over the still bodies with such haste that they all started to blur into one another.
Too late.
There, standing before her was a bloody and bruised male lion. Large even by their standards as well. With his life essence flowing freely from gashes on his sides and one slice over one of his eyes, it was a miracle he was even alive and standing now. Her body froze as golden eyes stared up towards his impressively sized body while he returned the gaze with one of his own.
"What do you think you are doing you mongrel? Looking for treasures among my fallen brothers?" He snarled down at her, his voice low and deep with a commanding tone held in it. Without a second thought or even giving her a chance to respond he lashed out at her face with his claws exposed. With his anger still raging from waking up to find his band utterly destroyed, there was nothing to that could quell the fire quite like feeling his paws meet bone. What was left after his leg pulled back was a bloody mess on Risheera's face as a long laceration spread her flesh apart on her cheek, letting her blood run down her face as her eyes reflected both her fear and own anger at similar times.
"Perhaps even with a marred face you will still make a decent prize. I cannot return to my brothers by the sea empty pawed or I may very well be thrown to the sea for judgement for the death of my brothers in arms. You will make a fine thrall though it seems you may need a little work to break you in. Maybe one day you will make a decent enough saltwife to bear me strong children.
What in the hell was this lion talking about? Brothers by the sea and thrall were new words to the obviously scared lioness but she knew what wife meant and based on the words used before it she could gather that thrall was some kind of low rank and possibly these brothers lived in his pride. Perhaps the dead around her also belonged to this pride. A snarl emanated behind her closed mouth as she brought herself up a bit to look at him at a more equal standing position. Slowly she mustered her courage. She had been raised by gods! This lion was nothing compared to their might and she stood along side them. Why should she tremble before him? The subtle ache on her cheek alone reminded her of his aggression. That was why. "And if I refuse?"
"Hahah!" His laughter alone sent shivers down her spine but he was not done there. "The pretty b***h thinks she has a choice. No, you will be taken by force." With the final statement, he lunged at her, adamant at subduing her without even knowing if she would truly come peacefully or not. Either way it did not matter to him.
Of course Risheera defended herself with tooth and claw. Paws met flesh, carving their mark into each of their own furs. Blood splattered, staining the ground beneath them as the pair of large felines battled among the dead. While he fought to make her into this thrall he spoke of earlier, she fought to not only keep her freedom but to stay alive. If she lost, there was no telling what he could do to her. To stay a free lioness, free from any male's control, she had no choice but to slay him. There was no reasoning with him.
The two feline bodies clashed, pushed up against one another as they vied for control of the brawl. Paws swung wildly in the air, all of their claws out, raking against fur and flesh. Fresh blood soaked the dirt beneath them as the vultures began to gather around the dueling pair, hoping for a still lively one to pick at. Their calls behind them only spurred Risheera's movements on as she roared both in pain and as a battle cry. The battle raged on for what she could only guess was an eternity. No one lion truly getting the upperhand but for maybe a second. That was, until he slipped.
The male's paw, slick with blood, slipped out from underneath him, causing him to fall onto his back, his paws raised and his belly exposed to the furious lioness which loomed over him. Only a single cry rang out, his, and it was enough to cause the buzzards to take to the wind and then it was done. The male was dead and Risheera turned and walked away with her muzzle stained red, a slash across her face which she knew would likely scar, but good on it. It would be proof of her deeds. But said mark was not the only one. Dozens more littered her body, causing damage to it as the minutes dragged on. The striped lion was already feeling the effects and could do nothing but lay down amongst the dead as her feet gave out from underneath her.
As darkness claimed her vision she could not help but smile. At least she would die free and a victor.
[Word Count: 1327]